This year's Temple Terrace Relay For Life was held last Friday and Saturday and I participated once again as a member of Team Daddy-O Alley Katz. The event raised $77,640.38 of which our team raised $6,627 (so far...you can still give) in the fight against cancer. As for me, I raised $626.83, which fell short of my goal of $1,000...however, that's after I doubled it from $250 and then doubled it again to $500, so that's okay. And like I said, you can still give.I also want to thank my teammates, mostly for tolerating me and my bullshit and allowing me to be a part of something great.
And most of all, if your name is on our t-shirt (above), I especially want to thank you, because it's in your honor that we do what we do. Thank you for being an inspiration.
It occurred to me that since someone might read the last post and think it was The Last Post, it would probably be a good idea to let people know I'm still alive. My confidence, self esteem, sense of worth and importance and any semblance of optimism are all shot, but like Rocky Balboa, against better judgment (and possibly for lack of other options), I keep getting up. 
I'd recently read in the St. Pete Times that someone known publicly as "The Jesus Guy" was traveling around the Tampa Bay area. He's been featured in Time and Newsweek magazines, on ABC television's 20/20 and was the subject of a documentary film titled "The Jesus Guy" by Sean Tracey (clip below). A few days after I read the Times article, I was driving down Dale Mabry highway and I saw him walking along the side of the road. I had to pull over and get a picture, maybe talk to him. Although, I hadn't put much thought into it so I was caught off guard when he asked "So what's going on with you, spiritually?" 
"Okay people. This is a big day for The Bank of Tampa; we are going to have our company photograph taken! This image will stand as document of our pride in this institution, as well as the fidelity and dignity it stands for itself so it's very important that we get this just right. I see you're all wearing your finest three-piece suits. Excellent! Let's all go outside then..."
I was at my local neighborhood nation's largest chain retailer of books tonight, looking for some self-help material to deal with my latest calamitous bout with anxiety or depression or whatever it is I have (seriously, if anybody knows what it's called when you say really mean and terrible things to yourself internally over and over and over again until you reduce yourself to a crippled lump of raw nerves incapable of doing much more than lying in bed, let me know, because my efforts to figure it out have been fruitless so far) and I visited the magazine rack.
My dear friend K found some of my old photos the other day. She enjoyed them so much that she thought they should be shared with the world. She said they offered a unique glimpse into my past and would afford my readers a better understanding of me. Sounds like a fine idea to me so I said sure. And here they are...
Look at the baby! So cute! Hard to believe that the innocent little cherub in this photo would go on to become a mild-mannered boy from the Midwest that moved to Tampa and fell in with a crowd of sexy, fast talkin' city ladies who got his poor head all a-jumbled. 
Awww! Baby bath in the sink! Classic! Doesn't that make you want to just pinch my buttcheeks? Well, good news; you still can! Just send me a self addressed stamped postcard explaining why I should let you pinch my buttcheeks and if you're a lucky winner, I'll let you do it! Or just come up to me and do it whenever you want. Either way is good.
Halloween was always a special time to show off just how gosh-darned cute I was.
Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!
Ribbit! Ha ha! Froggy fun!
I had challenges to deal with...
...unique obstacles to overcome.
This is Whiskers McPounce-A-Lot, my pet kitty cat. One day, men from the government showed up in a special van and asked my dad if he knew anything about a bunch of goats that had been slaughtered in the neighborhood. My dad talked to the men out in the garage where I couldn't hear them and right after that, Whiskers ran away from home. What a strange coincidence. We were sad, but dad cheered us up when he told us the government men had come to give us some money because they wanted us to go to Deer Forest on vacation that year!
This is Mr. Scribbles, our pet chimpanzee. Mr. Scribbles taught me the secret of how to throw really hard and really fast. But all the other kids in the neighborhood had a real problem with getting feces on their hands so nobody wanted me on their baseball teams.
By the time I was becoming a teenager, I had a reputation for being something of a fancy lad...
Something I carried with me into high school...
...and eventually, like many troubled teenagers, I got into some dark and disturbing occult stuff.
...when "Urban Cowboy" was all the rage.
For a while, in the late '80s, I was the lead singer for a Tom Petty tribute band called "Petty Theft". We were sued out of existence on the grounds that we were (in the eyes of the law and a jury of our so-called peers, I guess) "godawful".
Then, of course you remember the year I spent defending the planet from aliens as Dynaman, right? Right? Oh, come on! Earth on the brink of being destroyed? All humans taken captive to serve as slave labor in the riboflavin mines on planet Hamnick-Yelkl? Nobody remembers any of that. Everybody remembers Mookie Wilson hitting a grounder that went between Bill Buckner's legs in game 6 of the '86 World Series but nobody ever seems to remember the whole year I spent defending the earth from aliens as Dynaman?!? Such bullshit from you people.
Anyway, here I am today, happy and relaxed in Florida with Rhonda, my personal assistant. Literally: this picture was taken today, right outside my corporate suite at Clark Brooks, LLC. Hmm, looks like Rhonda has been skipping too many meals. I think I'll tell her to whip up some pot roast and mashed potatoes for dinner tonight.
...but I'm pretty excited about it.That's most days.
And then, there are days like this:
I have been waiting for years to catch Maria Bamford, one of my all-time favorite stand-up comedians, in person. She's finally coming to Tampa for the first time, appearing at The Improv in Ybor City this weekend. I got so excited when I found out that I sent her an email asking if I could interview her for this blog. Amazingly, she said yes! And here it is...
A question I ask of every person I meet from Minnesota: What's Prince like?
This is all hearsay, but he is tiny. Pay it forward.
Growing up, did you have a mentor or role model who encouraged your creativity?
The Theatre teacher, Mr. Blackburn, this creative kids program in grade school and my parents always were pumped for whatever we were doing.
Did you listen to stand-up comedians when you were growing up? If so, any that you would consider influences
Steve Martin and Eddie Murphy and Prairie Home Companion were listened to regularly- and we watched Saturday Night Live every weekend. I still listen to PHC and watch SNL.
Do you still play the violin?
No! I let it go six years ago; finally accepted that I don't enjoy it.
How important do you think utilizing "social media" is for artists in general and comedians in particular?
I used to send out postcards and hand them out to people and now, people can find things out through friends more easily. I think it's important, but it also depends on what your vision or goals are. Maybe you're a steampunk comedian and you only find about about your shows through the Islamic Muezzin's call to prayer.
You gave fans a free special performance as a download for Christmas. I didn't get you anything in return. If I had, what would you have liked?
A couple of chickens.
Many comedy clubs have "wacky" names. If you owned a club, what would you call it?
The Broads-way- LA's Only Ladies Only Comedy Club!
Maria will be at The Improv in Ybor City Thursday, March 11th thru Sunday, the 14th. You can get info on specific show times by squinting really hard at the picture above or by simply clicking here (where you can also purchase tickets). You can learn much, much more about what Maria's doing, including other upcoming appearances, at her official web site.
It's an old stereotype that when men get sick, they turn into little babies about it and act like they're dying. However, all stereotypes are rooted at least partially in truth and in my case, when it comes to this one, the roots run so deep that you could name a library after it. Usually, I get sick twice a year; once in the winter and once in the summer time, which really sucks, because then it's so hot, humid and disgusting that not only do I feel like I'm dying, I feel like I want to.
I'll admit it right up front, I'm obsessed with this story...
Damn it, nouns used to be nouns, verbs used to be verbs and that was that! Well, sometimes they'd be adjectives. And don't get me started on gerunds and split infinitives and dangling participles or the proliferation of X's and Z's in place of the letter S. The point is I wouldn't even know how to country if I wanted to.
The extensive list of available beers. 
Patrons enjoying some of those beers at the bar.
We were lucky enough to be seated at the table in the gazebo located in the center of the restaurant. This is an unusual view; looking up at the ceiling from that table. then again, maybe it's not that unusual. They do serve a lot of beer...
This is my friend, filmmaker Renee Warmack, posing with our server (I'm so sorry I didn't get his name; he was excellent!) and Mr. Dunderbak's signature menu item, the Reuben sandwich. What's particularly notable about this picture is that this is the first time Renee has consented to be photographed, or even named as an accomplice in any of my misadventures, for this blog! When a sandwich makes someone do something they normally wouldn't, that's a damn good sandwich.
One of many merchandise supplies. It looks like the entire restaurant is constructed of displays like these. Indeed, if somebody were to walk in and buy everything that's laying out for sale, the place would be pretty empty. Doing inventory has got to be a nightmare.
Here are more patrons enjoying the festive atmosphere and...Wait a minute, what is that, down and to the right...?
Gyahh! Check out that amazing 'fro! That thing is incredible! Kudos to you, sir. I am impressed and jealous!
That's a whole lotta mustard
And that's a whole lotta more beer!
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